How to take down your rival in love
by funky-guitar-babe-9
Summary: A vaguely ridiculous series of interlinked short stories about Jenny Shepard trying to kill Hollis Mann. More ludicrous and less violent than it sounds, and hopefully humorous at the same time.
1. The Plan

Disclaimer: I still don't own NCIS, I just like to take the characters and let them play about in my somewhat twisted imagination.

Enjoy!

* * *

Hollis Mann, unfortunately, was going to have to die. Jenny Shepard had decided this just three hours ago, whilst watching her and Gibbs chat over a cup of coffee, laughing at some inside joke they both had shared. It had made her blood boil then, and still had the same effect on her now, going through paperwork at her office desk. Glancing around, she started to consider her options.

There was her ornate letter-opener sitting on her desk; that could do some damage. No, too distinctive, the mark left would be matched up easily. Perhaps another knife; a kitchen knife, maybe? Again, no, too easy to trace. Shooting could work, but it might still be traced back to her. Jenny didn't want to go to prison, just because she was trying to rid Jethro of a very unpleasant woman.

So, an accident, then. Cut her brake cables? Rig up her car? Less traceable, but, if she survived…too much of a risk. Pushing her off a cliff had promise, but persuading Mann to accompany her to the edge of a cliff, alone, at night, would be problematic.

A knock on her office door broke into her thoughts, and Cynthia called out to her.

"I have the case file you asked for, Director, may I come in?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Cynthia," she replied, and decided that her plotting would have to wait until later.

It was only after Cynthia had left that Jenny hit upon the idea. A freak office-related accident; that would work. Mann was going to be liaising with Gibbs' team on this investigation, she's be around a lot – how difficult could it be to take her out somehow? Smiling in satisfaction, NCIS Director Shepard reclined back in her chair, picked up her pen, and began to write.


	2. A Rendevous With A Tree

It had been any other afternoon, except for the added bonus of being able to see Jethro. As Army Lt. Colonel Hollis Mann walked smartly to her car across the Navy Yard, she felt almost as if someone was following her. Lurking, in the shadows. She smiled, and shook off the ridiculous notion – why would anyone want to follow her? Shaking her head and smiling to herself, Hollis stepped into her car, started the engine, and drove off.

Hanging bat-like in the middle of the night was Jenny Shepard, her black clothes blending into the darkness, just a pale face a slash of red hair suspended in nothingness. Watching, waiting for that moment when Mann would pull into her driveway, and then she could strike. Cautiously fingering the knife – she had decided that it was, indeed, the best course of action, seeing as office mishaps were hard to stage in a room full of agents – Jenny waited, poised, until she heard the tell-tale scrunch of a car rolling into the driveway. Mann's car.

Jenny grinned to herself, and leant forwards, hand raised, wrist flexed, preparing to throw the knife. From her lofty position in the tree that overhung Mann's house, she was perfectly concealed. As her target exited the car, and began to make her way to the house, Jenny prepared to throw, and solve this little problem for once in her life.

The last thought that passed though Jenny's head, she remembered, was a somewhat over-confident assurance that she had still "got it", and that years of politics instead of field work hadn't at all damaged her abilities. Unfortunately, although her mind was still willing, the tree, it seemed, was not. Sitting on the ground, bemused, scratched, and getting very damp, Jenny glowered up at the tree. Just as she had begun to release the knife, she had pitched forwards, hitting every branch on her slow descent to Hollis Mann's front lawn. To make things worse, the woman wasn't even dead; merely startled by the sound of something large falling out of her tree. At least, that was what Jenny imagined she had thought, although her head was still spinning. Either way, Mann was still alive, but at least she hadn't been discovered. Sighing and dragging herself up, stopping first to recover her knife, Jenny limped the two blocks to her car, stroking the scratches on her arms and face as she did so. Still, there was always tomorrow, although a new method was called for.


	3. A New Plan

"Y'know, a strange thing happened to me last night," Hollis told him, taking a sanding block down from the bench.

"Hmmmm?" was the only reply from Jethro's corner, where he was pouring two glasses of bourbon, reading a case file and drinking coffee at the same time.

"I said, something strange happened to me last night!"

"Yeah, you said."

"Something fell out of my tree."

This time, Jethro glanced up and gave her a quizzical look.

"Your _tree_?"

"Yeah. A something, a big something. But I didn't want to go and investigate, I couldn't see anything. I'm guessing it was just a really big cat, or maybe a dog, or a-"

"Stop. Why would a dog be falling out of your tree at 23:00 hours?"

"I don't know, but something wanted to get out of my tree!"

"You're out of your tree," he muttered to himself as he closed the case file and handed her a glass of bourbon.

"Although," he added in a cheeky tone, "if you are hallucinating things coming out of your tree in the middle of the night, then maybe you should be avoiding alcohol."

"I did _not _hallucinate it! Right then, discussion over. Give me that sander," she told him, gesturing to the abandoned item. He obliged, glanced at her, then shook his head.

"Women," he mumbled, and began to read the case file again.

"Owwww…"

"I sorry, you want me stop?"

"No, Noemi, keep…owwww…just put the bandage on."

"How you get these scratches?" Jenny's help asked her as she dressed the cut on her arm.

_Yeah, that's what they've asked me all day,_ she mused, frustrated. _But next time…next time, I'll think of something more sensible, so I won't have to…_

"Miss?"

"Oh, I, uh, I tripped," Jenny lied, and refused to answer any more questions.

After Noemi had dressed the sore scratches on her arms, Jenny wandered into her library and scanned the shelves. Sliding a book off a high shelf, she padded up to bed, changed and slid between the sheets, took a sip of water and settled down to read _Practical Car Maintenance for Beginners_.


	4. I Dropped My Earring

Jethro Gibbs strode into the bullpen, coffee cup in one hand, file in the other. He threw it down on the desk of one nervous-looking Anthony DiNozzo, who flinched at the loud intrusion into his otherwise peaceful morning nap.

"Read it. Now. Tell me what we've been missing."

"On it, boss!" Tony yelped, and got to work; it was never a good idea to irritate his boss, even on a good day. He started to read as Ziva and McGee were given their orders, and then became aware of some sort of presence. He looked up to see the green eyes of the Director staring down on the team, seeking someone, or something.

"Creepy," he muttered, and got back to work.

Where was she? There was no way Jenny was going to let her hours of research be wasted, just because Mann had decided not to show. She was going to cut the brake cables, and she was going to do it today. Then, Mann would speed along the freeway, try to brake, fail, and bam! No more Hollis Mann, no more getting in the way, and Jethro would be free.

"Director?"

Jenny turned, grinning, to face her assistant.

"There's a call from SecNav coming through in MTAC in 20 minutes," Cynthia informed her.

"Fine, I'll be there."

"Thank you, Director," she replied, and left.

_What is up with her?_ Cynthia mused as she went back to her office. _She's acting really strange…I'll ask her about it later._

"Colonel Mann, so nice of you to join us."

"Can it, Jethro, I got stuck in traffic. What have I missed?"

Gibbs flashed her a slightly naughty smile, then instantly went back to business mode, and told her about the suspect, his connections, and everything they had managed to dig up on him in the last hour.

"Right," Hollis said, nodding. "When are we going to pick him up?"

"We should have a warrant coming through in a couple of hours, and out intel shows that he won't be there until eleven hundred hours, so we'll be there before. In the meantime, we're going through phone records, witness statements, and any other bits of useful-looking paper we can find. Get started, you can sit over there," Gibbs finished, gesturing to a desk.

"Director, SecNav has cancelled the call, he won't be available until 4 p.m. Is that alright?"

"Yes, Cynthia, that's fine, thanks."

"OK. And, Director?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? You've been acting a little strange the last couple of days, is everything OK?"

Jenny felt her pulse quicken; what if Cynthia knew?

"Just…ummm…nothing, I'm fine, Cynthia."

Her assistant nodded, and left.

_Phew, _Jenny thought. _That was close, I have got to stop plotting when…hang on…no call from SecNav…Mann just arrived…I can fix her car now!_

As this realisation dawned on her, she leaped up from her desk, darted down the steps and shot into the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor before anyone could stop her.

"Uhhh…was that blur the Director?" McGee asked his fellow agents as they stared in the direction of the elevator.

"I think so, yes. I wonder who told her to get a groove on?"

"Move, Ziva, groove would be dancing."

"Never mind. Anyway, what was she-"

Ziva never got to finish her sentence, as Gibbs decided he would shatter their eardrums instead.

"Why don't you three shut up, and get a move on yourselves!"

The agents obeyed, and went back to their desks, leaving the mystery of the speeding Director to be solved another time.

Jenny strode swiftly to the NCIS visitor parking area, which was, as usual, deserted at this time of day, She had managed to disable the security camera here – the perks of being Director when planning such a thing – so she was unwatched, and free to solve her little problem for once and for all.

"Whew…that's a low car," Jenny mumbled to herself. It hadn't looked that low in the photos…and she had been expecting something a little less sporty for Mann, but there you go. Still, Jenny was a slender woman, and she knew she could fit under there.

Taking the wire cutters and torch she had found in the garage out of her bag, she pulled her skirt up a little, carefully lowered herself down to the ground, and started to squirm under the car. She had spent hours last night making sure she knew exactly where the brake cable was on Mann's particular model of car, and then searching out the right tools for the job; Jenny was confident that she could, this time, take out her rival.

"Ah, damn, I need to be a little more to the right…" she muttered, and started to pull herself out. She had moved maybe half an inch, when realisation dawned on her.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh, no. No, think, Jenny, think, you can get out. You can…ouch, hot!" Jenny rubbed at the sore spot on her hand where she had touched the exhaust, and tried once again to wriggle free, to no avail. At least she could drop the wire cutters and torch, if she could just – done it! With the incriminating tools out of harms way, all she had to do now was get out from under the damn car.

Easier said than done, Jenny soon discovered. Five minutes had passed, and she was still stuck, just a pair of high-heeled legs sticking out from Mann's car. And she was definitely, completely, irreparably stuck. To make matters worse, she hadn't even cut the brake cable, so there was absolutely no upside to the current situation. Except, of course, the fact that she did at least have time to get out.

"Boss, warrant just came through, do we move?"

"Yes McGee, we do. Grab your gear, we're going to meet him! Tony, take Ziva and McGee in the Sedan, Colonel Mann – what?"

He turned to face Hollis, who was trying to interrupt him.

"Why don't we take my car, it's light, quick, and would be less suspicious than two of your company cars rolling up."

"Good point, get your keys. DiNozzo, McGee, David, we'll meet you there."

And with that, the four agents and the colonel split off into their two groups and raced for their cars.

"So what do you think we'll find?" Hollis asked Gibbs as they hurried to the visitors' parking lot.

"Hopefully, the stash, and a dirtbag that's willing to talk." He replied as they reached the entrance. "Where's your car?"

"It's right…what's that?" Hollis said, stopping dead and pointing to her car.

"Hol, is this like the tree thing? You should really – wait – no, I can see something too."

"See, I'm not crazy! What the hell is it, it's under my car!"

"Stay here," Gibbs instructed. "I'll go check it out."

"The hell you will," she replied, and followed him to her car.

What they found there was most certainly not what Gibbs, or Hollis, for the matter, was expecting. A pair of legs – female legs, and quite nice really – were sticking out, squirming. They stopped moving, however, when they approached.

"Jen?"

_Dammit, _Jen cursed, _if they could have just gone for back-up instead of coming over here, I could of got free, damn!_

"Uh, Jen? What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, I, uh, ummm, I…I…I," she stuttered, fishing for a reason for being jammed underneath Hollis Mann's car. "I, uh, I…I dropped my earring! Yes, I dropped my earring, and it fell under here, and then, well, you can see…"

"Uh-huh."

"And I found it! But, well…I'm kinda stuck, could you give me a hand?"

Gibbs raised one questioning eyebrow at Hollis, who stared back at him.

"Okay…Hol…you get the left…"

"What? No…owwww!" Jen exclaimed as the pair pulled on her legs; it wasn't so much Mann as Gibbs' considerable strength that was painful, especially when he was concentrating all of it on pulling her leg off.

"Great, Jethro, just great, at least my leg will be free. And separate from the rest of my body! This is clearly not the way to go!"

"Yeah," Gibbs replied, "I can see that."

"My car is pretty light," Mann interjected, clearly still confused. "So maybe if we…?"

"Worth a shot," Gibbs said, and crossed to the other side of the car. "One, two, three, lift!"

As the agent and colonel lifted as high as they could, Jenny just about managed to wriggle free of her metal prison, and very gratefully stretched out on the concrete.

"Better, Jen?"

"Yes, I, uhhh, I'm late…I have to go…thanks…I'll…"

Jenny didn't even bother to finish her sentence as she scurried off, embarrassed and frustrated that she hasn't been able to cut the brakes. So, the car plan clearly wasn't going to work; Jenny decided that she still had some work to do on the subject of Colonel Mann.


	5. Another Idea

"What was that all about?"

"Huh?"

"You know, Jethro, earlier. With Jenny, and my car."

Gibbs smiled a little, and turned to face Hollis.

"I have absolutely no idea."

"D'ya think she really did drop her earring?"

"Who knows? Either way," he told her, trying not to laugh. "It was funny, even though it could have been dangerous."

"Yeah," she said absently, "but, I suppose, if I was in any danger, she would have told me."

_I've got to find a way to take her down, _Jenny thought to herself as she reclined in her favourite armchair, sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Sighing and sinking down into the chair, she absent-mindedly stroked the burn on her hand from the exhaust, and recalled with a wince the embarrassment of it. Having Mann find her was one thing, but Jethro? She cared what he thought of her – hopefully, he didn't think she was too much of an idiot. Then again, he could always tell when she was lying to him. Either way, he had said nothing, so with any luck, it was all in the past, and she could concentrate on her present – and how to terminate Mann's.

On her way out of the study, she glanced up at a book on the shelf above her head, and reached up to it. Glancing at the spine, she discarded it again, and carelessly replaced it on the shelf. She took a step back, grabbed her empty coffee cup, then _whump_! Looking up and rubbing her shoulder where the book had connected, Jenny had another idea. Another idea of how to get rid of Hollis, for once and for all.


	6. A Tragic Accident

A/N: I hope you're all still enjoying this, sorry its been a while, I've had tech trouble :p Let me know if you like it, and if you have any ideas on what Jenny should do next, do tell me, and I'll try and incorporate it!

* * *

"Director Shepard?"

"Ah, Colonel Mann. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I just wanted to ask you if you were alright. I saw you outside MTAC, just staring down at the team, for maybe ten minutes. Is everything OK?"

Jenny took a sharp intake of breath, and tried not to glare at her rival. After all, her plans were in place, and Colonel Mann would be out of the way before she knew it.

"I'm fine, thank you, Colonel."

"That looks nasty," Mann said, gesturing to Jenny's hand. "How did that happen?"

"Car exh-"

Jenny stopped; she didn't really need to discuss how she had burnt her hand on the exhaust pipe of this woman's car right now. Or ever.

"Oh. Right. Well, I'll be…"

"Yes, yes, thank you, yes…" Jenny mumbled, ushering the blond out of her office, to try and break the somewhat embarrassed silence. Still, the car incident was witnessed by only three people; she herself would never tell, Jethro was hardly a talkative man, and as for Mann – well, soon she wouldn't even be able to. Jenny looked out across the Navy Yard, and saw the sun start to shine. Yes, today was going to be a good day.

"If you park up here, then I'll meet you on 22nd Street."

"OK, Hol, I'll only be half an hour.

"Alright," Hollis said as she stepped out of Gibbs' car. "See you in 30."

Hollis clicked along the sidewalk in her heels, her mind lost in a wandering maze, mostly about the case. She refused to let thoughts of Jethro creep in, and of Jenny; there was most definitely something wrong with the woman. The car incident, although they hadn't spoken about it, was still playing on her mind; Jenny hadn't, Hollis thought, been wearing earrings that day. And if that was true, what was she doing under her car? _Stop it, _she chastised herself. _Focus on the case, and _not _your personal life._

Her mind firmly back on track, Hollis returned to her thoughts about the case, and headed for 22nd Street to wait for Jethro.

"Great, just great," Jenny muttered to herself as she drove around the corner. "I would have to be late today. Ten minutes till Hollis will be in position, and I'm not even there yet."

Growling in frustration at the realisation that she could soon miss her chance, Jenny swung into the closest available parking space – right in the middle of 22nd street. It wasn't ideal, but with any luck, she could remove Mann and get away before anyone suspected a thing.

Hollis started to pace up and down a little area of 22nd. There was still fifteen minutes until Jethro would arrive, and she had absolutely nothing to do. Still, best to just wait here, until he arrived. Sighing, she took a seat on one of the benches outside the library, and waited.

Jenny Shepherd took the steps up the library two at a time. Having contacts always helped; she had been able to persuade the man who owned the library to let her get right on top of the building. With its overhanging ledge, it was the perfect place; having persuaded Jethro to meet Mann there, then ensuring that she would be standing around for a while, all she needed was a weapon. And so, waiting on top of the ancient old building was a lump of rock, just heavy enough to do damage whilst still being moveable. A piece of rock falling on and killing a CID Colonel in the middle a nearly-deserted as it always was, at this time street would be tragic. A tragic accident, of course.

Where was he? Impatient, Hollis started tapping her foot. Her stomach had been bothering her all morning, probably owing to the large amount of bourbon she was consuming at the moment, but it seemed to be getting worse. Still, Jethro would be here so, then she could get moving again; that seemed to help the uncomfortable feelings in her abdomen.

A few minutes later, and he still hadn't arrived. Now, Hollis really was uncomfortable, and starting to shiver. And, why was this street so deserted? It was eerie, really, but it could be worse. She eventually decided to get moving and stood up to start pacing again, allowing a small smile as her stomach thanked her for standing once again.

The rock was in position, and, to her surprise, Jenny found that she could actually move it fairly easily. Now, all she had to do was push it off, and Mann, and all of her troubles were history. Plus, Jethro would be hers. Jenny started to push against the rock, but just as it was about to leave the ledge, she stopped. The damn woman was moving! Still, this building ran almost the whole way along this side of 22nd street, so if she could roll it – which, thankfully, she could – then when Mann stood still, one good shove would do the trick. Jenny, glancing at her watch, realised with a start that it was now or never. Heaving the lump of rock along the roof, Jenny watched her mark closely, praying for her to stop. And she did. Jenny stood back, deciding to take a run at it for good measure, took a deep breath, and went for it. As she slammed into it, she realised, too late, that she was going to overshoot; the damn rock was going to miss Hollis! Too late in realising her error, Jenny watched in horror as the rock sailed over the edge, just as Hollis started to walk down the street again. A huge crash and a car alarm sounding spilt the silence of the air, and Jenny gingerly lent over the edge, afraid to see what damage she had done. Opening her eyes, she looked down in horror at the scene below.

"Son of a bitch!"

Hollis leaped about six feet into the air as a massive crash sounded just metres behind her, followed by the manic blaring of a car alarm. A moment later, Jethro arrived on the scene, and immediately pulled her out of the way, before realising that there was no bomb, no shooter, and seemingly no danger, just a very large roof through the windshield of a car. After double-checking Hollis was alright, he looked back at the shattered car, and with a start, realised who it belonged to.

"Hey," he said, turning to Hollis. "Isn't that Jenny's car?"


	7. I Wanted To Take My Niece Swimming

Jenny Shepherd was in a very, very bad mood

A/N: Thanks to all of my reviewers for their kind comments, I'm very grateful! Oh, and as for the Jibbs/no Jibbs dilemma, I have yet to make up my mind…although I did love the idea of finishing off both, and keeping gibbs for myself! We can but hope…

Jenny Shepherd was in a very, very bad mood. And embarrassed. And her feet hurt, and she had aching muscles in her arms, and now she had a smashed windscreen, dented bonnet, and glass all over the front seats of her car. The rock, she had decided, was probably her worst idea yet. Worse still, she had had to call a cab to work, and had been hiding in various places at NCIS all morning in an attempt to avoid having to explain the mess her car was in to Jethro, who had actually witnessed the scene on 22nd Street. Still, at least the previous scratches were healing, and the car exhaust burn was gone, with no scarring. At least that was one bright spot in an otherwise terrible morning.

"Do you think Jenny's car is going to be able to be fixed?"

Gibbs looked up from his desk, to see Hollis leaning over, watching him. A nice view, but disconcerting; her sudden interest in Jenny Shepherd was unnerving him.

"Well?"

He sighed.

"I don't know, Hol. That was a pretty big rock, and lucky it didn't hit anyone. It could've hit you, considering how close you were," he mused, half speaking to his desk. "The real question is, what was she doing on 22nd Street in the first place?"

"Returning library books?"

"Yeah, Hol," he muttered, sarcasm creeping in. "Because that's what the Director of NCIS does before she comes to work."

"People have a life, you know. Well, maybe not you, but…" she tailed off, and left her perch on the edge of his desk, deciding that this conversation was better carried on later. Or, more likely, not at all.

"Director? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Cynthia, thank you."

"It's just, you were in the bathroom for half an hour this morning, and Special Agent Gibbs has been looking for you. Are you sick, or anything?"

"No, I'm fine, really. And tell him…tell him I'm busy," Jenny instructed her assistant, then hung up. _Fantastic, just fantastic. Mann is still alive, my car is completely screwed, and now Jethro is looking for me, probably wanting to know what I was doing._

"Jen?"

_Dammit!_

"Ah, Jethro. Yes, I'm very busy at the moment, so you'll have to come back later, just leave the files on my desk, and I'll get-"

"What were you doing on 22nd Street?"

_Once, just once, _Jenny mused. _It would be so nice if he could just let things be._

"I was – ah – I was – I was posting a letter."

"There aren't any post boxes, and why didn't you do it here?"

_Oh, for the love of God, why?_

"Hand delivered."

"To who?"

_Would he just, please, once, stop prying?_

"Somebody I know," she replied shortly, in a tone that said 'end of conversation'. Gibbs opened his mouth to ask more questions, but seemed to think the better of it. She decided to try and get rid of him, fast.

"Well, I'll see you some-"

"Jen?" Gibbs asked, sounding as close to being tentative as he ever was. "Is everything OK?"

She sucked in a breath. What did he know? Was he on to her? No, impossible, she had been so careful – apart from the car incident – there was no way he knew.

"I'm fine," she told him, in a curt, clipped tone that she hoped would get him out of her office.

He hesitated at the door, turning one last time to look at her, before he left.

_Phew. I'm going to have to come up with another, better idea, before this gets out of hand…_

As Gibbs stormed into the bullpen, his path was blocked by a clearly angry Hollis, waving a stapler around and waxing lyrical about swimming pools to his team, who were looking, well, disturbed.

"And all I wanted was to take my niece in, and would they let me? No! OK, so my swimming isn't amazing, but I'm unlikely to drown, and she's twelve, for God's sake! The whole system is just-"

"Uh, Colonel Mann? Having some anger-management issues?"

At the sound of his voice, Hollis wheeled around to face him, still angry about whatever swimming pool mishap had taken place.

"Ah, Agent Gibbs, I'm…I'm fine. I wanted to take my niece swimming, and the pool was holding some stupid class, so I couldn't, and I was…" She trailed off at the sight of Gibbs' eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hairline.

"Right. Well, we have a job to do, and it doesn't involve swimming pools, so…"

Above the team, on the steps outside her office, Jenny smiled to herself. Swimming pool. Lake. Cold water. Perfect.


	8. Something About A Lake

A/N: As ever, many thanks to all of my reviewers for all of the encouragement and lovely things you've said :) As for the Jibbs/no Jibbs I am still undecided, so do tell me what you think. I am still in favour of killing both and Gibbs being mine, though! I shall decide the eventual fate of Hollis soon, but you'll have to wait and see :) Or read, as the case may be.

* * *

Jenny pulled the coat a little tighter around herself, shivering against the cold breeze coming off the water. It hadn't been easy, but she had done it. She had had to call in favours from 4 different people at the lake, persuade Gibbs that there was evidence here, and even get down on her hands and knees to loosen the boards herself. Which explains why she had green knees; God only knows the last time somebody had actually bothered to clean this place, it had been deserted for years. Exactly why, Jenny mused, it was such a perfect spot.

"Got a tip! Colonel Mann, we're going to Elysium Lake."

"Elysium Lake?" Mann replied, unsure as to what this had to do with the present case. "Why?"

"Because, Colonel," Gibbs told her, exasperated. "Director Shepherd called, a contact just told her that our latest dead Naval officer had some strong connections with the Elysium Lake, and we were to go there immediately." He turned back to his team, who were all waiting expectantly. "You three, stay here, I want that revised suspect list and all the blueprints when I get back. And tell Abby I need that DNA."

"Yes Boss!" the rest chorused, as Gibbs and the Colonel grabbed their gear and hurried out of the building.

It was only when they were in the car that Hollis asked him.

"So, what is Jenny doing at Elysium Lake? And what's it got to do with our case?"

"Something about Jenny bothering you, Hollis?" he asked her, frowning. Why the sudden interest?

"Well, it's just…well…it's nothing," she finished, deciding that her suspicions about Jenny were most likely nothing more than ridiculous paranoia.

"Hol? OK, fine. And, Jenny only went to the lake because her contacts told her to, she met somebody down there and they said to bring us. So here we are."

The pair lapsed into silence, Gibbs concentrating on the road ahead and finding Elysium Lake, Hollis trying to stop her mind from suspecting too much about Jenny. After all, she was a friend, and Jethro's – well, who knew? Still, Hollis decided, it was probably nothing.

"Jen? Jen!"

"Over here, Jethro!"

Jenny smiled to herself. Everything was in place. All she had to do was drag Jethro over to the old hut to talk to a 'suspect', actually a guy she had plied with a fifty and a free lunch, he would realise that this wasn't the man he was looking for, and no harm done. Mann, meanwhile, would have fallen into the lake and drowned by that time, seeing as she could hardly swim, the lake was so cold today it would paralyse even a strong man such as Jethro, and there were a huge amount of weeds. By the time she had been in the water for a minute, she would be half dead, and nobody could get to her in under about five – perfect.

"Colonel Mann," Jenny called out, rushing over to her. "Could you wait here for just a second, Agent Gibbs is going to talk to someone who might have information, then I'll show you where you need to go."

"OK, Director, I'm not going anywhere."

Jenny motioned for Jethro to follow here and strode smartly to the dilapidated hut, pointing inside at their 'suspect'.

"Name's Karl Thornby, and I think that you can get some very important information out of him."

Jethro nodded, and entered the hut, where Thornby was perching uncomfortably on a chair. He looked almost surprised – this was not how things normally took place – but obliged anyway, pulling up a chair and fixing Thornby in place with his best Gibbs stare.

"So?" he asked him, in an almost languid tone. "What do ya know?"

"Along there?"

Hollis was looking nervous; the small extent of decaying boards that remained jutted out awkwardly across the water's edge. They appeared to be ready to collapse at any minute on their own, let alone with the weight of one Army Lieutenant Colonel atop it.

"There's something important over there, you need to stand about two-thirds of the way along to see and photograph it. Don't worry," Director Shepherd told her, seeing her worried expression. "It's perfectly safe, look."

The Director proceeded to prance up and down on the jetty for emphasis, and with new confidence, Hollis smiled.

"Thank you, Director. I'll be right over."

Although Hollis didn't catch it, the Director flashed a small smile as she turned away and walked back towards the hut.

_Everything, _Jenny smiled to herself, _is in place. All I have to do is make sure Jethro is occupied so he doesn't try anything heroic, and by the time anyone has got to the edge, it will be too late for Mann. At last._

She looked in on the hut to find Jethro still very much involved with Thornby, and grinned. Jenny left the hut and climbed up the hill a little bit, to watch from a height her final moment of triumph.

What was she doing? Gibbs looked past Thornby's shoulder out of the window, watching Hollis as she retrieved a camera from the car, and a notepad, then stopped. As he watched, she pulled out the cell phone from her pocket and started to speak into it, placing her equipment on the passenger seat as she did so. This was a waste of time, this moron clearly knew nothing, and was just looking for some attention. Sighing, he got up from his chair, told Thornby curtly that he would return in a few minutes, and walked over to Hollis, just as she replaced her cell in her pocket.

There was only one issue with her elevated perch; it was crumbling away. Jenny leapt up in frustration just as the earth slid away, and turned on her heel to find a better spot. In doing so, she missed Gibbs approaching Mann and talking to her, and didn't turn around again for several minutes.

"Hol, you can hardly swim, if you fall…"

"I'll be fine, Jethro. I'm going."

"No," he said, pinning her to the spot with his most serious look. "You're not."

She breathed out, and nodded reluctantly, although it was tinged with relief.

Gibbs smiled, and picked up the camera from the seat. Hollis pointed to the spot she had been shown and he nodded, adjusted his scarf against the biting air and strode out to the boarded walkway, camera in hand.

Finally, Jenny had found a good spot, not too muddy, and perfect for observing the events that were about to take place. She settled into a seated position and flicked a glance at the lake, where she was a figure standing at the start of the boards. A big figure. Too big. Her pulse started to race, and she tried to shout, but the wind snatched away her words and threw them back in her face. Glad she had changed into sneakers and cursing herself for being so foolish – also making a mental note to kill Thornby – Jenny started to run towards the water, praying that she would get there in time.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes to try and stop the stinging wind from making it any worse, and stared across the lake. He couldn't see anything from here, so he edged across to the half way mark – despite Hollis' assurance that it was safe, it looked rickety, and Gibbs was taking no chances. He grimaced a little at the cold and raised his camera, catching, out of his peripheral vision, Hollis heading toward the hut. Maybe she would have better luck with Thornby.

_Oh no, oh no, oh, please, don't let him – this is all my fault! He's not supposed to drown, she is!_

"Damn, damn, damn!" Jenny screeched aloud as she hurtled down the hill towards the water, screaming at Jethro to get off the jetty. Who cared if Mann suspected anything now, she was about to drown the one man who she could actually see any sort of future with.

He frowned. There was definitely a sound, although the wind was now so strong he could hear nothing other than the roaring as it raged past him, battering him with its full force. Still, he turned, and saw something he could never have predicted. A red-headed streak was running towards him, yelling something indistinguishable. A closer inspection revealed it to be Jenny, who had quite clearly lost her mind. Seconds later she was steaming towards him, and he finally caught what she was yelling.

"Get off the boards!"

"Get off the boards!" she yelled at him as she approached, starting to panic even more as she realised he was about to carry on instead of heeding her warning. She rushed onto thejetty, with every intention of stopping half-way and pulling him back to safety. As ever, though, fate had different plans. As she skidded to a stop, her feet slid out from under her on a patch of algae and she went down headlong, hard. The situation was only worsened by the realisation that, as she started to fall in slow-motion, she was now two-thirds of the way along the boarding and was going in. She hit the wood beneath her and heard a sharp crack; for a moment, she thought she was lucky and it was just a bone, but then she felt everything give way and she was suddenly dangling, head first, her body painfully jammed into the gaping hole in the jetty. A deep shout of "Jenny!" cut into her panicked, scrambled thoughts, and she was suddenly aware of the fact that her hair was actually brushing the surface of the water, and her hands were entangled within some sort of weed.

His instincts went into overdrive as he yelled for Hollis to help, then turned his attention to one finely-shaped posterior and a rather lovely set of legs waving around like some sort of demented worm couple, as the lower half of the redhead swore from beneath the jetty. He, however, resolved to help her first, then laugh, and managed to work her free just as Hollis arrived on the scene. Together, they pulled Jenny off the boards and onto dry land, and checked her over. No obvious injuries, apart from, presumably, her pride, so he just frowned.

"Uh, Jen? An explanation, perhaps?"

A cold, wet Jenny sat up gingerly. There were, she could feel, scrapes around her midriff and lower legs, but no blood, and nothing serious. Her real problem was the fact that Mann was still alive, and she had ripped her very expensive dress, flashed Jethro on a day when she had gone for Bridget-Jones knickers, turned her hair, arms and legs a vague shade of green, and appeared to be clutching a handful of partially rotten slime the precise shade of mucus in both of her hands. It was also wrapped around her wrists and was, she now realised, in her hair and dripping onto the remnants of her dress. She looked, she decided, like a very poor model for a budget designer's "homeless mermaid gone bad" winter collection.

* * *

Again, if anyone has any ideas as to how else Jenny should try to kill Hollis, please do let me know, and I'll try to incorporate them!


	9. A Damn Fine Show

A/N: Well, I thought of a new way to kill Hollis, but any ideas would be great! Thanks again to my reviewers, and I am still undecided as to whether I should keep Gibbs, or give him to Jen...hmmmm. I want him! Plus, I'm a redhead, sp that just might help :D Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

"Ah, dammit!"

Jenny Shepherd smacked one slightly bruised hand into her desk as she slipped in late the next morning. She had needed three showers, a bath, a haircut and a manicure to try and clean herself up, and still she felt, well, dirty. And slimy. And very, very, very embarrassed. Still, at least this time there was no real suspicion; she had merely tried to save Gibbs from drowning, or at least, so it appeared. No-one need know what she had been planning.

Speaking of planning, she needed a new plan. A foolproof one. One that could not fail, an one that would not result in any sort of damage to her, or her car, or anything else around here. Except Mann.

"So, just to reiterate – the lake was completely, absolutely, totally pointless?"

"No, Hollis, it wasn't."

Hollis turned, surprised; she hadn't been aware of any information they had actually got from anyone at Elysium Lake.

"What? Did you find something?"

"Well, yeah. Hol. I found that Jen looks ridiculous when she panics for no reason, and even more ridiculous when she falls in a lake. I had a good laugh, even if she was pretty mad."

Hollis smiled, remembering. The sight of poor Jenny, covered in the weed and algae from the lake, with her dress all messed up, one shoe off, and generally looking as if she's been dragged through an underwater hedge backwards, repeatedly, was too funny to forget, even if she had feigned compassion at the time.

"I felt sorry for her."

"You did not, Hol! You almost fell in the lake yourself, you were laughing so hard!"

"Well, quietly, yes. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, things haven't exactly gone her way recently…"

Jethro allowed a small smile to creep across his face, remembering. The car, the rock, the lake…what was she up to? Still, he decided, whatever was going on, it sure made for a good show.

"So," Jenny said aloud, to no-one in particular. "She's still alive. Which means I have failed. Again. However, I'm still alive, so it's not over yet. I could always –"

"You talk to me, ma'am?"

"What? Uh, no, Noemi, I was just…thinking out loud."

She sighed to herself and watched as Noemi retreated to fetch her coat and leave. She had been talking to herself a lot, recently…Noemi must think she was on drugs, or something.

Jenny got up from her chair and headed to the kitchen, but something pulled her back. She smiled to herself, and snapped her fingers. That was it. Drugs.


	10. My Dealer's Gone To Prison

A/N: So I finally found the time, and got rid of my writers block! I'm hoping there'll be another update very soon, thanks for your patience; college stuff has taken up a lot of my time :)

* * *

"Why," Jenny voiced aloud as she stormed into her office, once again attracting concerned looks from Cynthia. "Is it so difficult to drug somebody? You would think that, in the middle of D.C., I would be able to find somewhere that would sell me illicit, banned narcotic substances. But no. I – "

"Uh, Director? Are you alright?"

Jenny looked up, praying that Cynthia hadn't heard what she was saying.

"Fine, thank you," she replied curtly. "Just…just…just thinking aloud. About some – some files. That will be all, thank you, Cynthia," she finished, and waved off her bemused assistant, who nonetheless obeyed.

_Prescriptions…I could ask Ducky for a prescription!_

Her mind made up, Jenny set about working out how to get Ducky to write her a prescription for painkillers.

"I agree, Jethro; this young man certainly did not live a virtuous life. Abby's toxicology report will be able to shed more light on the matter, though.

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs told him, and left before Ducky could launch into another drawn-out story.

The doors swished once, then again, seconds later. Smiling, Ducky turned around.

"Forgotten something, Jeth-oh, Director. What can I do for you?"

"It's about my arm, Ducky. I twisted it last week, and it's still giving me some trouble, could you-"

Ducky motioned for her to come closer, and then proceeded to examine her arm, turning it over and looking for the source of the pain she described.

Jenny winced a little, for effect, mainly, although the site of the open body on the table made her wonder just what the medical examiner's hands had been in just moments before. Putting it out of her mind, she instead focused on giving a convincing performance. Ducky, at least, seemed convinced.

"Well, Jenny, I would say that it is obvious you are in some pain."

"So…meds?"

He laughed.

"I'm afraid, Jenny, that I can't prescribe you anything for it. See a specialist. They will be able to help you more than I can. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

Disappointed, Jenny tried to argue.

"But, but – it hurts when I write!"

Ducky sighed, and looked his friend in the eyes.

"I can't write you a prescription, but I can tell you to describe these symptoms to somebody else. Now, if you'll excuse me," he repeated, this time with more force.

Jenny obliged, turned and left, trying not to show her frustration at her plan being thwarted. On her way out of autopsy, a tartan-print, pigtailed streak barrelled into her, yelping something about a toxicology report. Jenny shook her head and grabbed the woman by the shoulders as she attempted to run down Jenny in her haste.

"Abby. Abby…Abby…ABBY!"

"What? Oh, uh, Director, uh, sorry, I'm…just…excited, that's all! I found the drugs, I found them, they were in there the whole time, right inside the evidence lockup, this could solve the case! This could be it! This could…"

Jenny, however, had already stopped listening. Evidence lockup, of course! Her smile firmly back in place, she left a rambling and rather confused forensic scientist behind her as she headed for the garage.


	11. Woman's Problems

"Hollis Mann…I hope you like your meds…because you're gonna get one hell of a dose!"

Jenny was currently rooting through an evidence locker, having been so excited about finally having a plausible plan she had keyed in the entry code wrong twice, her fingers shaking with anticipation. To the casual observer, she probably looked a little like an addict with ADHD, the way she kept flicking from place to place, but the only thing she was addicted to was getting rid of the one woman standing in her way, and what's the harm in that?

She bent over a little further to get deeper into a hopeful-looking box, a box which looked like it contained illegal narcotics confiscated from a date-rapist who had been apprehended last month. Not that date-rape was really in her mind, but still, they should do the trick nicely. Bending even more, her trousers rode up uncomfortably – really, they were too tight, and she had been thinking all morning that the material was giving out, but an inspection in the mirror had revealed no rips that she could see. Besides, she had chosen these trousers specially, because today she was finally going to get Mann out of the picture, and she wanted to get ahead in seducing Jethro, hence the large amount of leaning and bending she had been doing for the entire morning. She liked to think it had been having the desired effect, in fact, it had almost made him uncomfortable – or at least that was how it appeared. But she knew the real reason.

"Alright, what the hell is with that mad boss of yours?"

"Hol…I…you…what?"

"Jethro, the woman is wearing trousers so tight I'm learning gynaecology just looking at her, and has done so much bending over you'd think she was warming up for a major gymnastic event. Now, either someone round here hired the director's hooker doppelganger, or she's a few sips short of a bottle, if you know what I mean."

Gibbs sighed…he really did not have time to deal with Hollis' crazed insecurities and suspicions about Jenny today. That said, she had been a little…well…over enthusiastic today. _Never mind camel toe, think the entire damn leg_ he mused to himself, and was instantly surprised at his feelings. Although she had actually made him quite uncomfortable with that ridiculous outfit, and she was indeed behaving like a monkey on heat. An attractive redheaded monkey, but a monkey nonetheless. _Do I have some sort of monkey thing? No, wait, the insanity round this place is starting to ru-_

"Jethro!"

He looked up.

"Yes, Hol?"

"Where the hell were you?"

"Uhhh…case. Case is more important. McGee, start going through phone records, and DiNozzo, I want you on that trail…"

"Just a spoonful of a sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go do-own, the medicine go down, just a spoo-"

Jenny stopped, having suddenly become aware of the fact that she was singing like a demented drunkard. Instead, she decided to focus all of her efforts on going through the boxes to find the drugs; she didn't want anyone to know she was down here, and had already been forced into hiding from various employees to avoid discovery. Nevertheless, she was sure that once she had got Mann out of the picture for good, everything would be worth it, and she could have what she really wanted in life.

Jenny sighed in frustration; another box that contained no meds suitable for what she wanted. Some Vicodin, Morphine maybe? She was sure it was in here somewhere, but the question was where. Then she saw it. The box she had been looking for. A little gold shimmer was emanating from it, the box itself seemed to be beckoning her towards it, inviting her to search it's depths for- Jenny stopped and shook her head, trying to clear the bizarre picture that had formed. _It's Mann who's having her dose of narcotics, not me…think, Jenny, instead of going crazy?_

"Uh, Boss? Small problem."

"What now, McGee?"

"Well…my computer's done something funny, and it's-"

SMACK!

"Better?"

"Well, yeah, much, thank you, Boss, but…I still lost that bit of data. About the personal effects."

"Well where are they, McGee?"

McGee glanced up at an increasingly irritable Gibbs. Now was clearly not the time to annoy him, so he decided, for the sake of his health, to get to the point.

"Evidence lockup. I'll go get the stuff."

Gibbs nodded slowly, and waved him off.

"Ah ha! Got you, you little…you little…bottles of stuff…"

Jenny squinted in the poor light, trying to make out what the label said.

"Tr – Tr – Tra – Trama – dammit, I feel like I'm in the first grade again! Trama – ama – amadol! Tramadol! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!"

It was only then that Jenny realised that vocalizing her triumph could only draw attention to her rather illegal activities, so she shut her mouth and instead focused on pulling the stuff out of the boxes. Three bottles of pills, all mostly empty, but combined would make one hell of a cocktail. Just for good luck, Jenny grabbed a bottle of purplish solution, another narcotic by the looks of the label, placed it carefully on a shelf whilst she replaced the box from which they came. _Now, _she told herself, _all I have to do is edit the logs a little and tidy up in here, and all will be well._

"Hold the elevator! McGee, hold the damn – thank you," DiNozzo finished as he, swiftly followed by Ziva, Gibbs and Mann, leapt into the elevator.

"Thought we'd come down and check out evidence with you, change of scenery, y'know?"

Gibbs glared at them all, and they closed their mouths, resigned to silence as the elevator carried them downwards and into the garage.

"DiNozzo! Get back here, and take him with you!"

Jenny whirled around. She had just heard a voice. A familiar voice. No, wait, voic_es_, plural. The voices of one L. J. Gibbs and his team, plus the tagalong bitch. _No, don't get sidetracked, get moving!_

Hastily, Jenny rammed everything she had grabbed into her clothes – the pills were going to be emptied into her bra, but the shirt was too fluid, it showed too much, so she stuffed them into her shoes, up her sleeves, her pockets and, taking a deep breath, her underwear. Cold, uncomfortable, but necessary. Then she stared at the bottle of liquid – she certainly couldn't shove that anywhere without causing undue discomfort. Except, perhaps, her pocket. Would that work? The footsteps came closer, and as she heard the unmistakeable sound of the door to the lockup being wrenched open – plus cursing about it needing an oil from an irritated Gibbs – she made her choice, and rammed it into her pocket as hard as she could. Satisfied that she could just slide out swiftly and all would be saved, she smoothed her hair and waited for them to enter, so she could glide out with a cool, seductive confidence. She was still uncomfortable – that's what happens when you shove enough pills to take down a mammoth into your knickers – and the side of her leg felt odd, but that, she decided, was just because the liquid bottle was in that pocket, and her trousers were maybe a little on the tight side.

The team, plus Hollis, and led by Gibbs, headed straight to the room containing the personal effects from their dead Petty Officer. Seeing a light, however, Gibbs pressed a finger to his lips to silence the rest of his team and went to investigate, where he found Jenny. Looking…well…the same as she had for the last couple of weeks. A little bit suspicious, if he was completely honest. She smiled at him, and gave him a look he could only imagine she thought was seductive, before she noticed him staring at her. She followed the line of his eyes, and before she could open her mouth, DiNozzo broke the rather awkward silence.

"Uh, Director? Why do you have purple goop running down your leg?"

_Think fast, Jenny, think fast!_

"Uh, uh, I, uh…" She fished for a reason, and found one.

"Woman's problems."

_Yeah, genius. The previously cream-coloured leg of your trousers is turning purple. Really a woman's issue._

Still, the words had the effect they always had: they silenced all of the men in the room.

"Hah, yeah, I should go sort this out…y'know, woman's things, hahaha, men, ah, you wouldn't, y'know…"

Jenny took a few steps forwards, too busy worrying about salvaging her $300 trousers to walk with the planned sexy swing in her hips. Instead, she hurried to the door, and had almost…nearly…so nearly made it out. Then a noise made her stop. A noise not unlike when a child discards a packet of Skittles onto a concrete floor.

The team was stunned into silence, and instead of speaking, elected to watch the pills pour out of the clothing of the first female director of an armed federal agency. Gibbs looked on; even he was completely floored on this one. Finally, the Director herself broke the silence.

"Umm…I can explain."

_

* * *

_

As ever, thank you to all of my reviewers, much appreciated, and I will try and incorporate all of your suggestions into my story :) As for the eventual fate of our two warring ladies, I have yet to decide…much as I like the idea of offing both and keeping Gibbs for myself, after long talks with my psychiatrist, we have come to the agreement that I'm not allowed. Spoilsport.


End file.
